“There's no trick to being a humorist when you have the whole government working for you.”
- Will Rogers
Well, my friends, we have a winner. Barack Obama will officially be our next president. (Note: if this comes as news to you then let me be the first to welcome you back from outer space.) Finally, we can all breathe a sigh of relief knowing that when we turn on our televisions tonight, we won't be hearing any more campaign ads, negative or otherwise.
While it's a good thing that we all came together to decide the future of our country, I have found within myself a problem that I must openly admit to. You see, I have an addiction. This affliction comes not in the usual form of drugs or alcohol as one might guess. No, my demon comes from the fact that I simply cannot stop voting.
It started innocently enough back in high school. I helped in the campaign to get Marty elected to prom king. What can I say, I enjoyed the idea of having the power to decide the future. I should have stopped right then and there, but I wanted to fit in with the popular kids. And, as all these stories go, my need for ballots only grew. When it was time to go to college I found myself becoming awfully friendly with the class treasurer and secretary just to be close to the action.
I tried to get clean of all the politics. I wouldn't go anywhere near anything that even resembled a booth, which made trying on clothes at stores a bit interesting to say the least. I sought professional advise and got rid of everything that would remind me of my illness to the point where my house didn't have curtains in it; a shock for my neighbors, to be sure, but a small price to pay for the greater good.
I once tried going to group therapy but, with the principles of a secret ballot, “Voters Anonymous” seemed redundant. In time, I made great strides at not deciding on anything. Occasionally, I would have relapses, like when I turned 30 and demanded a “recount,” but for the most part I was able stay clear of ever having to take a side on any issue.
Yes, I thought those days were behind me. That is, until this November. Like so many of us last week, I woke up on Tuesday and headed for the poles. I cast my vote like a high roller at a craps table, and like those gamblers before me, I won.
While some may see this as being lucky, I know that my actions on Tuesday had only refueled my cravings. I think I may have hit rock bottom this weekend when I realized I was watching old reruns of “American Idol” and sending out text messages for no apparent reason.
My only solace is knowing that I'm not alone in my plight. After all, Obama collected 349 electorals, and yet, I only voted once.
Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each
Sunday, in The Citizen.
He can be reached at
lovonian@hotmail.com
Well, my friends, we have a winner. Barack Obama will officially be our next president. (Note: if this comes as news to you then let me be the first to welcome you back from outer space.) Finally, we can all breathe a sigh of relief knowing that when we turn on our televisions tonight, we won't be hearing any more campaign ads, negative or otherwise.
While it's a good thing that we all came together to decide the future of our country, I have found within myself a problem that I must openly admit to. You see, I have an addiction. This affliction comes not in the usual form of drugs or alcohol as one might guess. No, my demon comes from the fact that I simply cannot stop voting.
It started innocently enough back in high school. I helped in the campaign to get Marty elected to prom king. What can I say, I enjoyed the idea of having the power to decide the future. I should have stopped right then and there, but I wanted to fit in with the popular kids. And, as all these stories go, my need for ballots only grew. When it was time to go to college I found myself becoming awfully friendly with the class treasurer and secretary just to be close to the action.
I tried to get clean of all the politics. I wouldn't go anywhere near anything that even resembled a booth, which made trying on clothes at stores a bit interesting to say the least. I sought professional advise and got rid of everything that would remind me of my illness to the point where my house didn't have curtains in it; a shock for my neighbors, to be sure, but a small price to pay for the greater good.
I once tried going to group therapy but, with the principles of a secret ballot, “Voters Anonymous” seemed redundant. In time, I made great strides at not deciding on anything. Occasionally, I would have relapses, like when I turned 30 and demanded a “recount,” but for the most part I was able stay clear of ever having to take a side on any issue.
Yes, I thought those days were behind me. That is, until this November. Like so many of us last week, I woke up on Tuesday and headed for the poles. I cast my vote like a high roller at a craps table, and like those gamblers before me, I won.
While some may see this as being lucky, I know that my actions on Tuesday had only refueled my cravings. I think I may have hit rock bottom this weekend when I realized I was watching old reruns of “American Idol” and sending out text messages for no apparent reason.
My only solace is knowing that I'm not alone in my plight. After all, Obama collected 349 electorals, and yet, I only voted once.
Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each
Sunday, in The Citizen.
He can be reached at
lovonian@hotmail.com
